The Many Misadventures of the Soul Smith
by Darkfire Kitten
Summary: A series of short stories, oneshots and random scenes based in the world created in sonoci's "A Witch's apprentice". It helps if you've read at least to the end of chapter nineteen there first.
1. Some Days

Hey all! As the summary says, this will be a series of Stories based in the world created by sonoci in her story A Witch's Apprentice, both can be found in my favourites. The first few will will bedirectly linked in a chronological order, I guess you could call it a short story, four chapters five tops. Beyond that however, well, we'll see. One thing I am certain of is that they will be from the viewpoint of Hei-chan. He never gets enough love in my opinion. The continuation of this series will be based completly on the approval of the world's creator, so, please spacey-sama, may I play in your world?

**Disclaimer**(_because they say I have to_): All I own is this cookie which I am about to eat, and soon I won't even have that anymore. (been wanting to use that one for a while XD)  
Wait! I lied, I actually own a computer now.... finally! I do not however, own anything regarding any series I may use or reference throughout these stories. I am simply using them for a little entertainment and, of course, writing practice.

* * *

**About this Story  
Title: **Some Days

**Summary**: Some days he found being a soul smith, and magic in general, to be very handy things. Others, he cursed Kudo for ever winning that damn contest.

**Notes**: They say you always hurt the ones you love... I must really love Hei-chan.  
Thought up the idea while writing a review for AWA, thought it would be funny. I decided I really wanted to write it so here you go, not nearly as humerous as I first thought it would be.

* * *

A dark skinned teenager bolted along the busy sidewalks of Tokyo's Shinjuku district, shouting warnings at other pedestrians who looked his way strangely before jumping out of the way for fear of being rammed by the youth. He changed direction, whipping along a different street just as a few shards of brick flew from the wall's corner he'd just rounded, for reasons unknown to anyone but the boy. The boy, one Heiji Hattori, didn't have time to pause and wonder how the pursuer, or more accurately Hunter, could even affect the physical world in such a way.

His chance met him and he took it, ducking down an alleyway, praying that lady luck would be on his side for the moment and it wouldn't be a dead end, emphasis on the 'dead' part. The risk was necessary though, he couldn't keep the danger in the midst of the general public any longer. It was a virtual labyrinth within those walls. All the twists and turns and the tight space worked to his advantage it seemed to slow the hunter, though it certainly didn't deter him if the sounds of ricochet behind him were anything to judge by.

Fortunately, the sun was high enough at that moment that he could see his surroundings clearly, even within the shadows. Otherwise, he might have missed it. A door, of the type that is usually kept locked to prevent any unwanted visitors from entering in that way, had been left open. It was only a crack, just enough to slip his fingers through, but that was more than enough for him. Without a second thought he grabbed that door like a lifeline, opening it enough to slip through before closing it completely behind him.

He threw his back against the wall next to his entry and for a while he did nothing but wait, listen, and attempt to slow his breathing. Once he felt sure enough that he'd thrown the hunter off his trail, at least for a while, he allowed his body to relax, though his senses stayed on alert. His legs collapsed, allowing his back to slide gradually downwards until he was seated on the floor. Heiji was far from out of shape, but at that moment he felt as though he has recently sprinted half a marathon, at least.

All of his troubles, as least for that day, had been caused by that ghost, a beast of an apparition that looked more like a machine than a person. He'd run into malevolent spirits in the past and, a certain witch notwithstanding, none of them had really done much more than yell death threats at the person they were mad at, or start pounding on him with their fists when they discovered they were able to vent their aggression in such a way. They never had glowing blades or energy blasters that popped out of their wrists. They definitely didn't have missile launchers concealed in their shoulders. And that was just the tip of the iceberg for nasty surprises. At one point he'd only barely managed to avoid a grenade, though that part had at least been before he'd entered anywhere too heavily populated, so no unsuspecting bystanders had been hurt.

Then there was that net, oh the net, definitely no way he'd be forgetting that anytime soon. He'd been caught off guard by that one, rather literally. He'd already be a goner by now if it hadn't been for his training with Akako. He'd realized rather quickly that the net was nothing but magic woven into solid strands and had set to work detangling them to the point where he had simply passed through them as though they weren't there. He'd been so busy with his efforts that the fact that they were flying well above the city had eluded him completely.

He'd only managed to survive because he'd landed on the roof of a department store, thereby minimizing his fall. Even so, it hadn't been a small drop and he was pretty sure he'd be in agony if he thought on it for too long. As it was he was sore all over and sharp pains shot through his right side occasionally that he just couldn't ignore. He'd already noticed that arm hadn't been moving quite right for a while and upon closer inspection found the area around the wrist to be noticeably swollen.

Despite everything he still preferred injuries over the alternative. That was another thing about this ghost that was different from other violent spirits he'd met. Where they were violent out of anger or, on occasion, confusion, this one seemed to be doing it for fun. Scratch that, he knew this was a sport to the ghost, he'd been all but told so in the beginning. Apparently his status as a soul smith made him a 'rare creature' and now he was determined to 'mount his head over the mantle'. Heiji shuddered at the thought, everything about it was just so, so wrong.

To think, not that long ago he'd been walking to the market to get things for dinner so the little neechan and the professor could continue working uninterrupted. He'd barely made it over three blocks away when he had found himself slammed up against an iron gate, not unlike the one in front of Kudo's house. He might have struggled had it not been for the large, neon-green blade being pressed up under his chin. The glowing green eyes were examining him closely, uncomfortably so, as though they were searching for something. The brute of a ghost muttered to himself, obviously not impressed with whatever it was that he found.

Fidgeting under the scrutinization had led Heiji to notice a bar near his hand that was coming loose. Using the barrier behind him for support he had levered his foot against the attacker's chest and shove him away. Turning he had used both hands in order to wrench the rod free and swung it around just in time to catch his attacker solidly across the shoulder. Aside from knocking him off course from an attempted second attack, he didn't seem to have fazed the creep at all. By the time Heiji had taken a proper ready stance his opponent had already reoriented himself and was holding the blade, which Heiji could now tell was extended from the back of his wrist, before him at an angle.

They faced off like that for a few seconds before the robotic looking man faded partially from view. Up until then Heiji had failed to notice anything incorporeal about the freak in the mechanical suit, but once he could see the street through the guy's body it was blatant. He barely had a chance to wonder how a robot could become a ghost, for he knew then that it was a ghost, before he had to defend himself from said robot. The exchange was short but fierce and when they parted the metal man raised his eyebrows, looking considerably more interested than he had with his initial inspection.

Heiji still wasn't sure, even much later, but he thought the ghost had faded further from his view. The ghost floated slowly around him counter-clockwise and Heiji followed with both his eyes, and the tip of the rod he held. As the movements gradually became quicker and more erratic he diligently continued to keep his makeshift weapon between them. The situation reminded him strongly of the original experience he'd had with a dead spirit.

He kept his guard up, expecting an attack to come at any moment, but was surprised when 'Mister Mecha' simply stopped and smirked. He stood still and stared as suit started to speak, "Impressive Whelp, It seems the rumors weren't as exaggerated as I first thought." His defence slacked a bit while he wondered who would have told this guy about him. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction the ghost had retracted his blade and held the same hand, palm out towards the detective all in the same motion.

The next thing he'd known he had be curled up and wrapped so tightly he could barely move. The fence rod was laying uselessly a few feet away where it had dropped and the ghost, now completely solid again, was standing over him and commenting on his plans for Heiji after he'd been killed. His stomach felt like it was flopping around like a fish out of water as he remembered those words once again. He'd been to some pretty grotesque murder scenes but really, nothing compares to imagining one's own head stuffed and mounted.

He was almost grateful when the wall across from him blasted inward, showering him with bits of plaster and splintered wood. When he looked through the settling dust he saw the self-titled hunter standing beyond the newly created doorway. His eyes widened at the sight of the energy still dissipating from the barrel of, well, he had no idea whether to describe it as a bazooka or a cannon. Either way, it would still take him several days to figure out how something that huge could have been hidden within the confines of the armor, and even then he would wind up just blaming it on magic. Magic didn't need to make sense, right? Right.

The weapon, whatever you choose to call it, returned to whence it came as the ghost began to walk forward. At the same time Heiji struggled to his feet, the combined effects of his injuries and over-exhaustion making themselves well known by then, but he shoved them to the back of his mind. He watched the approach through slitted eyes, the steps clinking lightly on tiled flooring felt painfully slow in his mind. He chuckled to himself darkly, he was on death row and he didn't even get to walk his own march to the gallows. This was it, he was already panting slightly from the effort of standing, there was no way he'd be pulling another escape like that last one out of his Sax cap.

He pushed himself away from the wall, not wanting to appear so weak as to need support to stand once the inevitable finally came. Barely half a step taken on his behalf and he was forced to guard his eyes from a brilliant flare of light. Chancing a peek moments later it was still bright, but he was able to make out greenish streaks of lightning arching across the opening, and the hunter caught in the middle of it. Even after he'd broken free of the charge and stumbled backwards there were still electrical looking sparks jumping about his body as well as the edges of the hole.

While Heiji stood watching, the hunter's movements became very sporadic. "No!" He shouted, apparently no longer paying any heed to Heiji. "I can't be. Malfunct-. Ioning I. Still have to." His halting speech was cut off by a cheerful beeping sound. Looking at his arm he continued as though he were reading, "Study the mating habits of the Purple-Back Gorilla." Glowing eyes snapped to him, glaring fiercely as the rockets on his back powered up, "Don't think I am giving up, Soul Smith." With that he blasted upwards, phasing through the ceiling and out of sight.

Heiji gaped at the spot where the ghost had vanished for a full minute, completely dumbfounded. When his words did see fit to return to him, he was only able to utter a single phrase. Though it did sum up his thoughts quite nicely, "What tha hell jus' happened?" For the first time he finally took a good look at his surroundings. He could tell he was in what had at one point in time been a storage room. From the thick layer of dust over everything, he knew it, along with the attached shop now that he could see it, had been out of use for ages. There was a broken shelf on the lone unit standing in the corner and a number of old boxes, papers and other litter scattered about, abandoned on the floor along with the newly added wall debris.

Further examination revealed to him the now familiar glow of magic recently used. He had missed it before due to the brighter lightshow happening in the hole directly beside it, which had only just died down a moment before. Walking towards it he winced to realize that he could barely lift his feet and was actually closer to shuffling than he liked to admit. When he reached it he had to look up slightly to see where it rested just a few inches above his head, "Ofuda?" he realized what it was almost instantly.

One corner of his mouth quirked upward at the sight, of course. Magic spells and flying broomsticks were real. Ghosts were real. Why should he be surprised that protection charms were real too? Next thing you know, Koizumi would be telling him about ancient wizarding schools in Europe, or he would see a news report about a fire-breathing dragon in New York City masquerading as a high-school student, or maybe he'd win a trip to some cursed springs in the untamed wilds of China where martial artists sometimes go for training.

Shaking his head sharply to clear it of speculations he returned to inspecting the ofuda. One corner of the paper was resting over empty air. Had the blast occurred an inch or so further in that direction it would have been destroyed and useless. He thanked any and all deities that felt the compulsion to listen in at that moment fo letting him to be so lucky. Suddenly remembering something, he reached into the collar of his shirt and tugged a small bag out by its drawstring. Just as he'd suspected, the omamori held that same glow of passive magic at work. "Huh, so tha ahou can really do somethin' useful after all."

Almost as though Kazuha herself were there to reprimand him for the partial insult a sharp pain coursed through his arm, reminding him acutely of the injuries that he had been steadfastly ignoring and, as a result, abusing for a while now. Dizziness brought on by the sudden onset of pain caused him to lose his footing and fall forwards onto his knees, his left hand supporting him from pitching forward completely. The feeling of vertigo didn't leave him and he soon found himself rolling onto his side. The last thought to hit him before he blacked out: "Domo Arigato, Mister Roboto."

Some days he found being a soul smith, and magic in general, to be very handy things. Others, he cursed Kudo for ever winning that damn contest. Today, he was just damn thankful to be alive.


	2. Doctor's Office?

**About this Story  
Title**: Doctor's Office?

**Summary**: He wondered if maybe he would have been better off seeing a qualified specialist.

**Notes**: Was going to be combined with the next chapter, but I like where this ended. Not so much action this time, but hopefully the humour makes up for that.  
I would also like to mention that I am ecstatic that you like your gift spacey. Even if I forgot to mention that it is a gift in the first chapter.

* * *

He awoke to the sight of a cold gray ceiling. He might have believed he were still in the store room had it not been for the sounds. Papers shuffling alternated with clicking on a computer keyboard, and these intermingled with the humming of machinery and the occasional heavy footsteps from above. This place was certainly more lively than where he last remembered being. His thoughts were cut off by a throbbing in his temples and he let out a quiet moan in response. Instinctively he attempted to raise his hand to massage the area, but quickly found his arm to be trapped, held firmly in place across his stomach.

The clicking stopped and a soft yet professional voice drifted over to him, "You don't want to do that." Turning his head toward the sound, a quizzical mumble passed his lips. "You have an Acromioclavicular Dislocation." The explanation did nothing for him through the, drug-induced fog in his mind. She must have seen something in his expression and was feeling benevolent enough to clarify for him. "A Separated Shoulder." He nodded, his mouth making a small "o" of understanding. At that she turned on her heel and began to walk away. Before leaving his line of sight she sent him a glare that said very clearly, no words needed, that he was to stay put.

Not daring to disobey the silent order, he did his best to explore his surroundings as much as possible with eyes alone. It didn't take him much to piece together that he was, in fact, in the basement of the professor's house. One of a few areas within the dwelling that one or both scientists used as a laboratory. It wasn't too long before he heard footsteps returning, one pair all but completely drowned out by the other, and the little neechan came into view, followed closely by the inventor. His expression of genuine concern was somehow comforting, especially in contrast to the clinical detachment he saw in the small girl's face. It was in moments like this that he had no trouble associating the apparent child with Sherry, member of the Crows and creator of a poison that on occasion only works half way.

With their approach Heiji turned his head so he could keep his eyes on the kinder visage of the older man. Bending over Heiji he explained that they needed to run a few tests, just a check-up really, while helping the teen up into a seated position. As the sheets slipped away, bundling around his hips, he became aware of the fact that aside from the sling holding his arm firmly in one place, he was wearing nothing from the waist up. That 'nothing' included, he glanced around in search of the missing item, but when he twisted to look behind him he was interrupted by a dull throb from his midsection. A large hand on his shoulder brought his attention around to Agasa's questioning eyes, "What's the matter Heiji-kun?"

The professor's tone soothed him, but only slightly, "Omamori." The one word explanation seemed to be enough as he received a small nod before the man left his side and he began to hear the rustling of fabric nearby. His thoughts were directed front and center by a pair of fingers on his chin, and without further warning there was a penlight being shined in his eyes each in turn. He hadn't even registered the chemist moving the stool into place before him in order to perform her work from a more level vantage point. By the time she had removed a thermometer from his ear and was recording the readout he found his protective charm spinning slowly, as it hung from its string before him. He flashed a grateful smile the professor's way as he took the bag and clutched it in his fist possessively.

Ai worked through the various tests methodically, muttering her findings as she jotted notes onto a clipboard. So far he'd gagged on a tongue depressor, had his face pinched somewhat roughly, and endured her fondling of his upper arm while he did a few bicep curls with a light weight. When asked she had claimed that it was to test the working state of his muscles but, knowing her true age, he had to wonder whether she wasn't enjoying herself just a little too much. What was that look for? Was that amusement in her eyes? When she was slipping a cuff around his arm, fastening it with velcro to keep it in place, he finally voiced a thought that had been nagging at him for a while, "How'd I wind up here anyway?"

The professor having returned to his activities upstairs by then had left only the miniature physician available to answer, "You should thank Kudo-kun for that, sit still."She had to hand it to her, she was definitely efficient, not pausing once as she gave her answer, though her bedside manner could use some work. Her lack of further elaboration resigned him to the fact that he would have to ask someone else about it if he wanted any real answers, likely Kudo as she'd said. "What was that?" He blinked at the voice stupidly, had he said something? And when did she get across the room? Sure enough, she was returning the blood pressure monitor to her desk drawer and retrieving her next torture implement, er, testing device. At the sight of the syringe something caught in his throat and he began coughing roughly. He wasn't afraid of needles, he was about as much a fan of them as anyone else but, well shit, her hand barely wrapped half way around the thing.

As the coughing came to an end, the force causing his ribs to ache, he realized that she was climbing up to face him once more. The implement, the sight of which had sent him into the fit to begin with, was nowhere to be seen. He watched as she blithely adjusted the perfectly ordinary stethoscope in her ears and brought the end up to tap on it lightly, leaving him to wonder whether he had actually seen the thing or if his mind had been playing tricks on him. And there was that look again. Yup, there was definitely amusement there. Satisfied that the device was working properly she placed one hand on his shoulder and with the other she pressed the metallic pad to his chest, "Breathe deeply." She ordered, he complied. To his credit, he never once complained about the chill as the process was repeated, him breathing on command, her nodding and moving on. He was too distracted by the fact that she seemed to be laughing inwardly at some secret joke.

It had something to do with the monster needle. It must have. What else could it be? If he really had seen it, then he was sure that she'd pulled it out just to get s rise out of him. Why then? She could have been only doing it for the reaction, but he got the feeling it was something more, a punishment maybe? But what for? Had he said something wrong? He'd barely said anything at all? Maybe he'd been thinking something offensive. No, that was crazy. She'd have to be able to read his mind and that 'ear for thought' thing was supposed to be really rare. Then again, the same could be said for the shrinking side-effect of that pill she had created, so would it really be so hard to believe?

Noticing that he hadn't heard her voice for a little while now he glanced around, quickly finding her standing in front of him, but on the floor. Seeing that she had gained his attention she offered a beaker that she'd been holding she pointed towards the small washroom nearby, once again communicating everything she needed to without words. Now that he had the chance he returned his Omamori to its proper place around his neck, and felt better just for the familiar weight on his chest. With some effort he pushed himself to his feet and, taking the container, crossed the room in the direction indicated. Just as he was pulling the door closed behind him the girl's voice caught up to him, "You've been muttering nonstop for a while now. It's really quite entertaining." He didn't open that door again for several minutes.

Once he had composed himself enough to brave her company he learned that she had returned her stool to its corner and was busily typing away at her computer once more. Looking around at the click of the door opening, she had indicated where he should leave the, now filled, beaker before he returned to bed. She slid from her seat taking from the desktop, a glass of water and a plastic cup that she had prepared while he had been, well, let's face facts here people, he was hiding. She placed the glass on a table beside the bed and handed him the cup, inside of which he found two innocent looking little red and white capsules. Knowing Kudo's story though, he wasn't about to trust any pills she gave him so easily without, at least, knowing what they were first. She must have noticed his hesitation, "Pain killers I've been developing. Don't worry, they're fairly safe." He looked at her sceptically for a moment before finally giving in and downing them along with half the glass of water. He hadn't realized how thirsty he'd been until that moment, and the cool liquid felt wonderful sloshing down his throat and nearly making him forget his apprehension over the medication.

Nodding with satisfaction she returned to her desk and began rummaging through one of the drawers. "Oops." She exclaimed calmly after a moment. "These are the pain killers I meant to give you." She pulled out a small, unmarked, pill bottle for him to see. Wait, if she hadn't given him pain killers, than what did he just take? As if in answer to his question, was he thinking out loud again, she continued. "That must have been the trial of apotoxin I've been recreating for testing." He nearly choked on his water, sputtering and staring at her with eyes bugged out. He only just barely kept from losing his seat entirely. "Just kidding!" she all but sang, actually sounding like the child she appeared to be for once.

He clutched his chest, torn between relief that it had been a joke, and annoyance that she would make a joke like that in the first place. He settled for scowling at her back as she re-took her seat at the computer. "Y' really enjoy tormentin' people don't ya?"

Not altering her attention she responded, "A lady never reveals her secrets."

"Isn' tha' s'posed ta be magicians?"

"Them too."

He might have argued further, but that pillow was looking more and more inviting with each passing second.


	3. Waking Up

**About this Story**  
**Title**: Waking Up

**Summary**: Our favourite scientists get the whole story.

**Notes**: I blame the Conan vs Lupin III special for the first three paragraphs. Shortest chapter yet, but again, I like where it ends. Enjoy.

* * *

It was quiet, eerily so. The usual birdsong was missing and even the wind failed to sing her harmony through the canopy. He crept warily along the forest path, so familiar and so foreign to him at the same time. He should be listening to his instincts that were screaming at him to turn back, but still he continued. A few steps further and he paused. He felt something sharp and cool through the layer of fallen leaves beneath his feet. He jerked the limb back just in time to avoid the large metal jaws of the bear trap. Bolting back up the hill he heard several more distinct snaps behind him showing that the first one was far from being the only one.

A crack of thunder, no that was gunfire, echoed through the valley, urging him to run faster. What was a hunter doing here? This place was supposed to be protected from them. Home. Home was well hidden, it would be safe. He would head there. Another deafening crack, another burst of speed, and the entrance was in sight. Ducking inside he stopped, chest heaving with his breaths. He curled in on himself, fearing for his very life, and praying he wouldn't be found.

Fire. They'd discovered his home and now they had set it ablaze. And with him still inside too, dammit. He inched backwards as green flames licked at his nose, shutting his eyes from the burning heat. He turned, he could escape through the back, he had to get away from the fire before it consumed him entirely. Skidding he pulled up short at the sight of cold steel pointed directly between his eyes. Making an about face he started to dash back inside. He didn't hear anything, there was only pain. Blossoming from his shoulder and spreading through his entire body as he pitched forward into the dirt.

A gasp as his eyes shot open wide followed by a sigh as he realized that it had only been a dream. Tentative fingers found their way to his shoulder to examine it. It hurt at his touch, like pressing against a bruise which covered the entire area. So he had been injured but, not shot. No, he knew it was something else, he had, fallen? That sounded right. Though he could remember being fired at as well. But he hadn't died, he'd been saved in the end, he'd been taken back to his current place of residence and treated for his injuries.

That's right, he'd been in the basement lab, but it was considerably darker now than the last time he'd been awake. His only company was the constant humming, intermingled with the occasional beep. Blinking a few times his mind cleared and he could remember. From the time he'd left to run errands up until his blackout and subsequent revival. Even the events of the torture session disguised as a check-up returned to his mind.

His previous bogged state was obviously due to whatever drugs the miniature scientist had pumped him full of while he had been asleep and un-able to protest. Running his tongue across the roof of his mouth to test it he found that along with the familiar sticky feeling and bad taste he associated with mornings, he also found a hint of, was that, maple sugar? Shaking off the thought he scrubbed the sand from his eyes with his relatively undamaged hand. What a dream, he had definitely watched too many Disney movies as a kid.

Taking a deep breath he manoeuvred himself into a sitting position, normally a simple task it was made into a chore by the combination of his lacking use of one arm and being virtually unable to move without antagonizing something. Despite his difficulties he had managed well enough, only pausing once to allow a sharp pang to subside. Spotting that his water glass had been filled, he took it and gulped the contents gratefully. Returning the glass to its place, he snatched up a folded slip of paper that had been left standing on the table next to it. Though not bright, there was still enough light for him to read the precise script.

_If you are hungry you may come upstairs for dinner.  
There are clothes on the chair._

He glanced around and sure enough there was a neat pile of clothing nearby as specified. Retrieving it he found it to be nothing more than a pair of track pants and a loose fitting t-shirt. After that, dressing with one hand had proven itself a nuisance but not impossible. Had he been required to fasten any buttons or zippers or the like, he would have written the thought off in a heartbeat and just gone upstairs in his boxers. It wasn't like the other occupants of the house had never seen him that way, he had been living there for a few weeks already after all. Speaking of boxers, had he been wearing red ones when he had left the house?

By the time he'd made it to the main floor both scientists were already a good half way through their meal. They looked up simultaneously upon his arrival, but it was Agasa who greeted him with a warm, "Good evening Heiji-kun! There is a plate in the oven for you." He smiled, thanking the man before he noticed that Haibara was looking at the wall, and following her gaze spotted the clock there. Ten minutes after eight huh? A little late for supper, but not unheard of.

The meal passed by uneventfully for the most part, despite the awkwardness of eating with his off hand. It wasn't until he'd finished off his last morsel, man had he been famished, that he noticed the others still sitting at the table. They had surely finished a while before him, and now their gazes were beginning to unnerve him. Furrowing his brows he questioned them on the matter, to which the eldest person of the household replied, "What happened to you Heiji-kun? After you left yesterday."

Yesterday? Shaking off the thought that he'd been unconscious for over twenty-four hours, even if it was broken once, he began with, "I was attacked by a ghost." He wasn't surprised when he was met with twin looks of scepticism. After all, what reason did they have to believe a ghost could do that kind of damage to him? "I know what y're thinkin', I even thought he was jus' some wack job in a crazy suit at first. He was solid, and I don't mean jus' ta me. An' he wasn' floatin' either. The ghosts I met before were always floatin'. But then I could see through him like normal, and tha's when I realized he was a ghost." He continued on, making it right up to the point where he escaped from the net and fell onto the roof before he was first interrupted.

"How far?" He stared at the small girl, one eyebrow raised and lips slightly parted. In his hesitation she reiterated the question, "How far did you fall?"

"I dunno, I was kinda focused of other things at th' time, like gettin' tha hell outta there with m' hide still on m' body." A chilling stare from the scientist caused him to think over his answer again. Facing the tabletop he closed his eyes to imagine the situation and began slowly, "I guess, it was, abou' eight meters, maybe ten." Giving a careless, one-armed shrug he eyed the girl, "Wha's it matter anyway?"

"It helps to determine the full extent of your injuries." She stated flatly, her body language made him feel like she was asking him, 'Isn't that obvious?'

"Tha' reminds me. Y' said I separated m' shoulder, but that wouldn't explain the bandage on my arm. What haven' ya told me?" The whole while, Agasa had remained silent as he watched the proceedings. Though he was obviously there out of interest for the story, his presence acted as a sort of mediating force if needed.

"Sprained wrist, quite a few bruised ribs, several superficial wounds, and a few minor burns."Burns? Damn, some of those shots really had come close. Her flat expression told him that he had better be satisfied with the answer because he wasn't getting anything more.

Stubbornly ignoring the wordless warning he pressed further anyway. "Ain't ya s'posed ta double check f'r fractures 'r somethin' like that in mosta those cases?" He was pretty well convinced that the professor didn't own an x-ray. Between an inventor and an experimental pharmacist there wasn't really likely to be much call for such a thing.

"I'm sorry, I left my CT machine in my other pants." She responded, obviously not happy with his questioning her methods. He resisted the urge to make a comeback, opting instead to continue the retelling of his experience as the hunter's prey. He did make sure to include as much detain as he could in an effort to avoid further confrontations.

* * *

Now with Omake Flavouring!

**Omake #1**

Taking a deep breath he manoeuvred himself into a sitting position, normally a simple task it was made into a chore by the combination of his lacking use of one arm and being virtually unable to move without antagonizing something. Despite his difficulties he had managed well enough, only pausing once to allow a sharp pang to subside. Spotting that his water glass had been filled, he took it and gulped the contents gratefully. No sooner had he returned the glass to the table than he'd fallen asleep yet again.

**Omake #2**

Taking a deep breath he manoeuvred himself into a sitting position, normally a simple task it was made into a chore by the combination of his lacking use of one arm and being virtually unable to move without antagonizing something. Despite his difficulties he had managed well enough, only pausing once to allow a sharp pang to subside. Spotting that his water glass had been filled, he took it and gulped the contents gratefully. As soon as he finished the glass slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor. He clutched at his chest in agony. He slid from the bed, landing on the floor alongside the broken shards. The cool concrete felt somewhat soothing against his burning skin, but that was only a small reprieve from the feeling that he was dying.

He awoke several hours later and looked around. "Well shit." The world around him seemed to have grown three sizes in his sleep. Of course, he thought while looking at his hand, that could be because he was two sizes too small.


End file.
